Independence Day
by The Sacred Bovine
Summary: oneshot sidestory to Toki's Satu] A holiday songfic to explain most of Shin Toki's mysterious & terrible past. Learn what happened to Toki's mother's & why she doesn't speak. Rated for gore and death. Heh, Happy Independence Day.


**Independence Day**

Disclaimer: I own this story, not the song, Independence Day, which belongs to Martina McBride and any parties that may include. The characters are all mine own, of my own strange but active imagination and may not be used in any other story, fan art or fanfic that I have not given exclusive permission to. Which, if you asked, I probably would, but I'm was a roll here….

(A/N:)Yes, I know Japan doesn't have Independence Day (the fourth of July) but I wanted to make a little holiday special for everybody while I work on chap 3 of Toki's Satu. This fic also features Toki, but in this one she's only 8 years old and just out of third grade. This is a story to explain most of the mysterious _that. _Part of it has already happened, though.

Our story picks up after an accident (that I have yet to explain), when things are still pretty normal, but Toki's real mother is still trying to cope with what happened.

* * *

**Independence Day**

_Well she seemed all right by dawn's early light_

Momma was there, sitting on the bed. Her lengthy black hair had been long since chopped off and her gray-blue eyes were constantly swimming with confusion. But the rays of the sunrise still shone in her bedroom window, lining the room with gold, bringing out the sparkle of the crimson bed and red carpet.

_Though she looked a little worried and weak_

It'd been two months since the accidentand Momma still looked bad. But at least we still had our house. I remember it always smelt of flowers, cloves and jasmine. That was, until Daddy brought the _other_ smell into the house.

_She tried to pretend he wasn't drinkin' again_

The first to flee before the stench was the flowers. Momma'd forgotten how to take care of them and she already had enough to cope with. But without her touch, our little garden withered away.

Sometimes we'd find him there, out in the middle of the dead garden. Wasted after a long night out. The first few times, Momma was sympathetic, but then it became a habit and she finally got up her nerve to tell him so.

_But Daddy left the proof on her cheek_

That was the first time he hit her, hit me.

Momma stopped using the clove hand lotion that day, and another smell faded.

Now she can't even cover the bruises with her makeup. There seemed to be a new one everyday. I wished she'd just stop pretending. Pack our things, pick me up, run away and never come back. But she wouldn't, couldn't. And so the bruises flowered on her face.

_And I was only 8 years old that summer_

That's what we called them, flowers. Dad gave us flowers. It hurt to get them, but everything hurts once in a while. For a while, it was a game, whose flowers looked the prettiest?

_And I always seemed to be in the way_

Until Dad caught us playing the game. That night we had so many flowers that we each looked like one big garden. But this garden wasn't pretty—it was all ugly black and painful blue. From then on, I didn't play the flower game. I avoided Dad.

_So I took myself down to the fair in town_

It was the fourth of July. There was a small festival in the town below our house. I didn't know what it was for, but I'd do anything to get away. Even just for a few hours.

_On Independence Day...__

* * *

_

_Well, word gets around in a small, small town_

Weaving through colorful stalls, I learned it was a celebration of the freedom of a country's freedom. The United Sates, a country far across the ocean. Somehow though, the people seemed to be talking about something else.

_They said he was a dangerous man_

I was wondering why every one was talking about _him_. They never said _his_ name, but they all knew whom they were talking about. I heard a woman shouting about her husband. I ran by vendors and stands to see what all the fuss was over.

_But Momma was proud, and she stood her ground_

It wasn't just some woman—it was my momma. She was yelling about Dad. The people all exchanged glances and moved away. None would meet the fire that shone in her eye.

_She knew she was on the losin' end_

Momma just sighed and turned away. When she saw me, it took her a moment to remember who I was. That happened a lot since the accident, but she'd been getting better.

_Some folks whispered, some folks talked_

"Don't listen to them, Toki," she whispered so only I can hear. "They'll see. We'll show them all."

I run to her. She picks me up and hugs me. I lay my head on her shoulder. As we walked away, I caught the people stealing glances at the flowers on our faces.

_But everybody looked the other way_

Momma gave me some money. Told me to go have fun. But I wanted to stay with her. But then she sighed that tired sigh she'd been using lately, so I ran off.

_And when time ran out there was no one about_

I stayed close, though. I watched as she bought huge rockets and firecrackers. So she only wanted to surprise me! I knew we'd have lots of fun tonight, watching the colorful explosions.

_On Independence Day… _

_

* * *

Let freedom ring _

I laughed and ran to the playground. I saw at least twenty kids there. I knew them all. "Satu!" they all squealed at once. We giggled when we all fell to the ground in a dog-pile. I tumbled free and my very best friend Ami came running and tackled me. "Satu! I ran all over the place looking for you! We almost thought you weren't gonna coming!" Ami was our scout. She could find anybody in ten minutes. That's 'cause Ami's the fastest kid in the world.

_Let the white dove sing_

A nice man gave us all a free cotton candy. We pretended we were eating clouds and fairy dust. Once we finished, I made up a game and we used the cones like horns, beaks and fairy pipes.

_Let the whole world know that today, _

The cotton-candy-man had gone. I wished he'd stayed to see us playing our game. Our game was make-beive. We were no longer just children. We were centaurs, satyrs and unicorns. We were phoenixes, witches and fairies. We lived in a land of real flowers and waterfalls and rainbows. We'd talk to the wind and the trees and they would whisper back. The grass would laugh as we rolled and frolicked upon it. Clouds would shout a cheery hello, but would never block the warm, smiling sun. Even the pebbles would whisper secrets to us. But we were the only ones who knew.

_Is a day of a reckoning_

Someday they'd know, we agreed. But they weren't ready yet. For now, it was our secret. They made me promise to show anyone. I asked them why I was so special. Because, they said, You are the one who makes the magic work.

_Let the weak be strong_

When we were all together, playing make-believe, we were unbeatable. No one could stop us! And when the grown-ups came, we'd hide. They'd never find us until we wanted to be found.

_Let the right be wrong_

We'd tried to tell them about the magic, but they didn't believe us. So we gave up. We knew. That was all that mattered.

_Roll the stone away_

That evening, Momma took all those wonderful fireworks into our house. She hadn't remembered to come get me, but I knew my way home. I was just running up the hill, calling out to her with breathless laughter. The front door shut.

_Let the guilty pay_

I heard yelling from inside. Momma screaming, she sounded angry. Dad was shouting, but it sounded more like he was pleading with her. Confused, I stayed back, hiding behind the hedges that acted like our fence. I could see them fighting through the picture window in our living room. Momma held up a stick. It was on fire.

Dad made several strange but graceful gestures towards it. The flame went out. Momma screamed, pointing to the stick. It caught a-fire again. Dad tried the gestures again, but they didn't work. Momma moved the torch towards the pile of fireworks in the middle of the room. Didn't she know you were supposed to light them inside? Before the accident, she told me they didn't work inside. Maybe she didn't remember.

"**Sumi! _No!_"** Daddy screamed.

_It's Independence Day_

Momma threw the torch on the fireworks.

_

* * *

Well, she lit up the sky that Fourth of July _

I remember, before the explosion, Daddy looking out the window. Somehow, he saw me, crouched between the hedges. He cast his hand towards me, muttering words I couldn't hear. A beautiful shimmering, crystalline bubble appeared around me, then him.

And our house was engulfed in a blazing inferno.

_By the time that the firemen came_

I remember the wailing sirens, Daddy running out of the house with his bubble around him. He ran away from our home, the fire, from me. He ran towards the woods, disappearing into the shadows. MY bubble flickered and went out.

_They just put out the flames and took down some names_

Our house, our yard, even the hedge around me was on fire. I screamed. Burning leaves and twigs flew into my mouth. Ash stung my eyes. I ran, choking on cinders, blinded by flame. A man came and picked me up, cleared my mouth. "This one's clear!" he yelled. More men like him were spraying our house with water from huge hoses. Until it was just a black, dripping skeleton. Except for one room… my parent's bedroom.

_And sent me to the county home_

I wanted to see it, but the man handed me to a lady and the lady put me in her car and drove me to another lady who had a house full of children. She asked my name. I couldn't speak. The flames had burnt my mouth and throat. The first lady told her that I was Shin Toki—that my parents had presumably died in a recent fire, that I needed a place to stay for a while as they investigated.

_Now I ain't sayin' it's right, or it's wrong_

I stayed there for three days. Three, miserable days that just blended into a gray lump of grief and loneliness. I didn't know anyone, and I pushed them away when they came near. I had to be force-fed. I didn't even play make-believe. I just sat there—alone—in the corner of whichever room I was forced to be in. I cried in silent sobs at night until I collapsed into the blissful oblivion of sleep.

_But maybe it's the only way_

I had burns all over my body. My skin peeled like a snake's. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't speak. I could only make wheezing, hissing noises. So the other children feared me. They called me Monsuta-hebi. To them, I was the monster snake.

_Talk about your revolution_

The forth night, Daddy came. He saw me, huddled in the corner of the dining room, and tears ran down his face. He started talking about courts and judges and how the people all accused him of setting the fire. They said he'd killed Momma. Daddy said it was hard, but he'd been proven not guilty and won custody over me.

_It's Independence Day...  
_

_

* * *

Let freedom ring _

The next spring, wedding bells were ringing. Dad said I needed a mother. So he'd met a pretty girl and was getting married again. I was glad, but worried.

_Let the white dove sing_

The lady's name was Kaiya. She had pretty blue eyes and long black hair. Despite that the people were all still talking about the fire, still calling my dad _him,_ she starting going out with him and soon agreed to marry. I liked her, but she reminded me so much of Momma that it hurt. She didn't know what to think of me, but she loved my dad, and that was enough.

_Let the whole world know that today,_

I hadn't spoken a word since the fire, hadn't tried. I'd lost most my friends from my stay in the Children's Home. Then I lost all the others, slowly, as they realized I wouldn't work the magic anymore. They all left me. All but Ami, that is. Not even she, the fastest kid in the world, could outrun my silence, or my hurt. So, eventually, we grew apart.

_Is the day of a reckoning_

Dad and Kaiya were wed. I was the flower girl, but I could hardly concentrate on the petals that drifted away from my fingers. They were leaving me, too. The only one I had was Dad, and now I had to share him.

_Let the weak be strong_

We'd moved to the city and were living in an apartment now. It had soft, thick green carpet. If I'd still played make-believe, I would've pretended it was grass, and that we lived in a forest. But nine was too old for that.

_Let the right be wrong_

There was, however, one room that I wasn't allowed in—the bedroom. He was even reluctant to let his new bride in. And it was always locked. There was only one key, and Dad kept it hidden in a dozen different places. There was no bed for me, but the couch folded out into a bed. So I wasn't too bad off.

_Roll the stone away_

Dad promised me and Kaiya he'd never drink again. But sometimes, he'd go missing. The rumors started again. Then, one cold winter night, we found him lying by Mom's grave with a sake bottle pressed to his lips. Kaiya was so mad, but she took us home and didn't speak of it.

_Let the guilty pay_

After several more "incidents," as she called them, Kaiya was fed up. Now Dad would come home drunk. I remember her throwing one of his booze bottles at him. Then she ran out the door. My father followed her into her car as she drove away and I ran after them.

I heard the screeches of metal. I ran as hard as I could, sobbing silently. I already knew.

_It's Independence Day _

_

* * *

Roll the stone away... _

I remember the horrible scraping sounds, then the alarming silence. I rounded the corner of an empty street. Saw the twisted metal, saw the blood, saw the crumpled figure of Kaiya, lying on the ground…

_It's Independence Day... _

That was the day I started thinking of Dad as _him. He_ had been thrown clear. _He_ would live. Kaiya, however, would not.

* * *

As I stood there, frozen by the gory scene before me, a car drove up. Its brakes squealed with its sudden stop. Mrs. Ito, Ami's grandmother and guardian, leaped out from the driver's side. The horrific sight didn't freeze her. She whipped out her cell-phone and called 911. After she placed the call, she noticed me, standing on the curb. She jumped. I just stared at her with blank eyes. 

It was exactly the same.

"Sa—Toki, is that you?" she asked.

I turned my eyes back to the crushed car, the bent light pole, and the red that had splattered the ground. It almost looked like the red fireworks that destroyed our home on that Independence Day. The day my first mother had been taken from me while trying to take my father with her. It looked like the same thing had happened here.

It looked even more like the first time I lost her. The time she lost me. It was exactly the same.

A second figure emerged from Mrs. Ito's automobile.

"Ami," Mrs. Ito said in a fierce whisper, "Get back in the car!"

I turned my cold eyes to her. She took in the scene first, and then, slowly, turned to me. Her eyes were clear, blue pools of empathy that met my murky, dark stones of apathy and somehow, clicked. We _knew_. It was just like before. Mrs. Ito was clueless, but we _knew_.

I held out my arms to Ami. She came to me and turned around, I climbed on her back, clinging to her like I always had. My legs wrapped around her middle, elbows locked over her shoulders, arms crossed over her chest, so her arms were free to swing.

It was exactly the same.

"Ami…" Mrs. Ito breathed.

Ami shook her head. Her hair was longer then, and I hid my face in its blonde curls.

"Satu?" Ami's strong voice echoed off the concrete buildings. I heard sirens in the distance.

I tap the top of her head with my chin and she takes off, racing the wind.

Bouncing around on Ami's back, I feel safe. Nothing can catch us—not the police, not the sirens, not even our problems. We're safe while we run.

That's 'cause Ami's the fastest kid in the world.

* * *

This was a hard story to write. Not only because of all the rough times Toki was going through, but I had to try to make the lyrics stand out, too. Seeing as how I like to be highly descriptive, this was hard. I still think the rhythm's way off and I'm not sure how to fix it. Maybe you guys could help me with that? 

But I did get it done on time, so I'm happy.

Oh! And while I was typing this, I actually did some research (Yes, I did some work! It's a sign of the apocalypse!) On the computer and found out that some parts of Japan _do_ celebrate America's Independence Day! They shoot of fireworks, too, but since the fourth of July falls right in the middle of their rainy season, they usually get rained out.

Happy Fourth of July, everybody! Leave me a comment on your way out, please!


End file.
